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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118925">Right By Your Side</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddyCat/pseuds/AddyCat'>AddyCat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death Note (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Everyone except for Matsuda is only mentioned, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, He misses Souichirou, Light's dead, Matsuda Touta Is An Idiot, Matsuda is a good shot, Matsuda is depressed, Post-Canon, Post-Reflections, Souichirou was always the father figure Matsuda needed, Yagami Souichirou's A+ Parenting, but in a good way, like really</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:47:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118925</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddyCat/pseuds/AddyCat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You see, Matsuda had rarely ever been the kind of man that felt like he belonged. But Soichiro Yagami had changed that — and that was something he’d never be able to forget. </p><p>OR: Eight years after the defeat of Kira, Matsuda finds himself reflecting on the only father figure he had in his life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matsuda Touta/Yagami Souichirou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Right By Your Side</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't think I've written anything for the DN fandom... ever. Wow. But this is my first contribution so forgive me if it's a little shoddy! I just feel like Matsuda doesn't get enough love &amp; his relationship with Papa Yagami always made me soft and full of fuzzies. Dealing with the death of a father isn't easy and I wanted to explore that. I hope y'all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You see, Touta Matsuda had rarely ever been the kind of man that felt like he belonged. The Kira investigation had been a long-winding road entrenched in blood, sweat and tears and the numerous task forces that surfaced and re-surfaced throughout the years had left the man with loyalties that seemingly swayed as easily as the tides. Day in and day out, Matsuda found himself struggling to find his place, his niche within the ranks of those fighting in the name of good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nearly seven years had passed since the day he had shot Light Yagami and almost eight since his father had died, too -- and all he can think of is how the twisting path of Kira’s demise had left Matsuda even more hollow than he had been before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands idly now as a thin sheet of drizzling rain coats the Kanto region, umbrella discarded &amp; a collection of loose flowers remains tightly clenched within his fist. He’s drenched -- down to the bone, really -- and his clothes stick to his frame from the moisture. Matsuda hardly notices, though; instead, dark hues stare blankly ahead at the stone pillar marking Soichiro’s grave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s already been cleaned, Matsuda notes after a slow moment. Sachiko had always been almost religious in keeping up her late husband’s burial site. Always adjusting, always tidying -- for his shrine was all that the poor woman had left. Not a speck remained out of place in spite of the rain and slowly, the dark-haired man bends down to arrange the flowers he had brought. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eight years.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost stings to think about and Matsuda grits his teeth, clumsy fingers trying to focus on keeping each individual stem from knotting together. Eight years had passed since Soichiro lost his life in the fight against evil. The thought is enough to leave a bitter taste in his mouth, tainting his tongue and causing bile to rise in his throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He died at peace, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he has to remind himself.</span>
  <em>
    <span> He died believing his son was innocent.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Isn’t that all Matsuda could have ever wanted for the chief? For him to have died in a state of happiness? The questions chased after the former investigator even years later -- and no matter how deeply Matsuda attempted to bury it away, no matter how hard he fought against the nightmares that continued to plague his subconscious, he couldn’t help the gnawing sensation eating away at the pit of his stomach each time he stood before Soicihiro’s headstone. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Guilt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His therapist had placed a name to the feeling years ago -- and ever since then, Matsuda found himself grappling with the gravity of the realization. A sigh tumbled past his lips and, once the last flower is carefully arranged, he pulls back. He had always been Matsuda, you idiot. Always the one failing to take things as seriously as they should. Perhaps if he had exerted a little more effort, applied a fraction more solemnity into his behavior -- maybe the chief would’ve lived. Or, at the very least, he would’ve lived long enough to see his efforts come to fruition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing there in the rain before the Yagami patriarch’s grave all but reeks of a trauma he had hardly processed in full -- and while Sachiko still struggled with her husband’s death whilst balancing Sayu’s recovery &amp; the murder of her own son, it became abundantly clear that Soichiro’s passing had been symbolic for so many others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matsuda nearly flinches at the thought, a stab of sudden pain piercing through his chest as Soichiro’s familiar face swims through the haze of thoughts plaguing his mind. Aizawa, Mogi, and Ide had all mourned their fair share for their fallen partner -- both before and after the end of the Kira case -- but Matsuda… he continued to struggle with the harsh reality of it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never had a father -- not in the emotional sense, at the very least; he had lived with a single mother who worked tirelessly to put clothes on his back and food on his plate and a roof over his head. Yui Matsuda did what she could and made do with that she had — and with Matsuda and his younger sister to feed, there were times when her fatigue got the better of her. To say Matsuda stepped up to help would be an overstatement — one that even he would own up to with slight embarrassment. He had always been clumsy, rash, and ill-equipped to handle the troubles of modern day life. Thankfully, his sister was a smart girl with a capable attitude. She picked up slack where he couldn’t and by the time they reached their high school years, Matsuda found himself kicking dust and wandering aimlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He worked odd jobs during holiday and tried to achieve marks that were acceptable, at the very least — but no one had ever truly been there to guide him through the trials and tribulations of early manhood. It wasn’t as if his mother was ever truly disappointed in him; frankly, she was often too tired to notice Matsuda’s lifestyle at all. And so, Matsuda, you see, had never truly found his niche. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stumbling into the police academy had occurred by chance; many of his peers were well-bred pedigrees with prestigious degrees — much like Light, himself. But Matsuda was not. He was a stray dog who had been kicked into the program by an old girlfriend who found his dead-end jobs and aimless meandering to be a red flag. She had meant well, really — and in retrospect, Matsuda was grateful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was because of her that he had met the chief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely scraped by his academy training — but even that was a small feat for him. Matsuda was ecstatic, happy to find himself in a position with a job stable enough to provide. While his relationship had been ill-fated, the turn of events had been enough to saddle the young man with a comfortable outlook on his future. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matsuda, you idiot — it caught on like fire to gasoline. No matter where he went, it felt like he was disappointing others. A spilled coffee here, a botched police report there. He was always error-prone, always disappointing. But he provided a set of working hands and so his position remained secured. It wasn’t until he met Soichiro Yagami that Matsuda felt like he was truly being seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks back now, thoughts lingering on the numerous nights in his early twenties — when Soichiro watched with paternal worry while Matsuda insisted on staying after hours to take care of business “Son, don’t you have to go home?” Matsuda would never forget the edge of concern that laced through the older man’s careful words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would beam, wide and silly, before hands waved vaguely in the air. “Aw, no sir! I don’t gotta be anywhere, really!” His apartment had always been empty, as it is, and his futon was unbearably uncomfortable on most nights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soichiro would frown and harrumph in that way that only a father could. Matsuda would smile apologetically and have the courtesy to look sheepish. “Don’t worry, sir. I can handle it, erm,.. sir.” A rub to the back of his neck. “I know you have to get going an’ all…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he would smile. It was the kind of smile that made one feel safe, like you mattered — and Matsuda felt himself grow hot with embarrassment. Soichiro would clap a hand against his shoulder and chortle quietly. “Alright, son. Don’t stay too late. They lock the doors at eleven.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matsuda would stutter a promise to leave before then as the older man shrugged on his jacket. It always jarred him that Soichiro would care enough to ask why he stayed — for everyone else always assumed that Matsuda’s extra hours were merely compensation for his lack of any real ability. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even more surprising were the mornings where Soichiro arrived with an extra Tupperware packed. He would place it unceremoniously before Matsuda as he bent over yet another piece of paperwork that had become overdue. He would peer up with eyes wide with surprise. “Er — chief?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shake of his head was all Soichiro offered in response. “Sachiko cooked extra last night. I remember you complaining about all the instant noodles you’ve been eating all week.” Words came with ease and as Soichiro walked away to tend to his business, Matsuda could no nothing but stare in slack-jawed awe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with the Kira case, the young man found himself looking to the chief of the NPA with reverent eyes. No one believed in him — for good reason, even Matsuda would say — but no matter what, he always felt like Soichiro would stand steadily by his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matsuda never grew up with a father, true. But meeting Soichiro Yagami had made him feel like he found one, instead. A man so noble, so kind — he always was one of the most earnest people on this earth. And in the end, it was his drive to make the world a better place that had lead to his untimely death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soichiro Yagami had always been the one to keep Matsuda from slipping through the cracks — but he couldn’t do the same. He feels shameful, guilty. Like it’s his fault this all happened. When Light confessed to the number of atrocities he had committed, Matsuda found himself sinking into a pit of despair so deep that it boiled directly into rage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Light had willingly sent his father to an early grave. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was all because of him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The spray of bullets and the resulting bloodbath left Matsuda dazed. A smoking gun remained gripped in his trembling hands and hot, angry tears cling to his cheeks. The game had come to an end and with it, Matsuda sealed away what little happiness he had left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, they never told Sachiko the truth regarding her son’s identity. Just as Soichiro would’ve wished, Matsuda notes with resignation. He had died thinking his son was innocent and it seemed only merciful to afford the same privilege to a grieving mother and wife. Light died as a result of his meddling with the evil Kira — and it was a secret Matsuda has no choice but to carry to the grave. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s what Soichiro would’ve wanted.</span>
  </em>
  <span> For his family to die in high esteem. For his wife to believe in the good of her boys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not the first time that Matsuda considers all of this — nor will it be the last. Aizawa and the others had parted ways kindly after the task force dissipated and while they all remained in amicable contact time and again, Matsuda knew that things would never return to the way that they were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts were all he had left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he exhales a deep sigh and takes a step back. A hand brushes through wet black hair and he squints. The rain continues to sprinkle and the sky looks as dark as smoke. Matsuda sighs and wordlessly, he reaches for the handle of his discarded umbrella. It takes a moment for him to struggle with it, a scowl twisting his lips as he forces the object to fan open. A screech of metal and another click later, Matsuda sighs in relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Chief,” he finally starts, dark hues resting upon the stone grave once more. “I’m off.” Another long, drawn out pause. “I’m gonna drop off some food for Sayu and Sachiko later, too… Beef udon. It’s your favorite.” His lips twitch and a sad smile flits over his expression. “From that one place next to the office. I hope they like it as much as you do— did.” he corrects himself with a clear of his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He adjusts his umbrella, twisting it within his hand to send stray droplets of rain off its slick exterior. “Aizawa and the rest of the guys miss you, too. They’re just bad at showing it.” Matsuda almost laughs. “But, Uh. You know. I have time, so… here I am. It’s always </span>
  <em>
    <span>Matsuda, you idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>… so even now, they don’t really need me at the NPA.” A humorless joke that feels more hollow than anything. “... and I didn’t know what else to do today. And I thought. Hey. Remember when the chief would always have some— weird old man </span>
  <em>
    <span>mumbo jumbo</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell me when I was having a rough day? But you’re not here to talk anymore. And I figured this is the next best thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tired voice echoes through the row of stone graves and Matsuda thinks to himself — has he always been this lonely? Or is it only now that he’s realizing it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head and takes a step back now, fingers anxiously twisting the umbrella’s handle between them. “Okay. I’m leaving now. For real this time.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wishes dead men could talk for once. He turns, back facing Soichiro’s name engraved into the cooks, gray stone. One step, then two. And he’s leaving him behind once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You see, Matsuda had rarely ever been the kind of man that felt like he belonged. But Soichiro Yagami had changed that — and that was something he’d never be able to forget. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Please drop a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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